


All with hope that emptiness brings fullness, and loss of love brings wholeness to us all

by MapleLeafSquareRoot



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, M/M, looking for angst? move along, probably canon compliant, seriously it's so fluffy you're gonna die, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleLeafSquareRoot/pseuds/MapleLeafSquareRoot
Summary: A short bit of fluff on the evolution of Patrick's touch throughout his relationship with David.Begins on the night of David's olive branch in 4.09.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 31
Kudos: 144





	All with hope that emptiness brings fullness, and loss of love brings wholeness to us all

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PandorasDaydream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandorasDaydream/gifts).



> Listen.  
> *Adjusts glasses like Dan Levy does*
> 
> This fluff is a Christmas Eve Eve present for PandorasDaydream, who, despite being mad busy, has always found the time to offer sage advice, an empathetic ear, or to (eventually) leave 30+ lovely and supportive comments on my fics (in one night). Merry Christmas, my friend. I wish you peace, dog snuggles, and eventually some poutine and a long-awaited radler. 
> 
> The S6 teasers and trailer have had me thinking about the evolution of touch throughout David and Patrick's relationship, and those thoughts manifested themselves into this. 
> 
> Song title is from the Indigo Girls ("Hand me downs")

The first time David noticed it was in the moments following what would have been the most embarrassing moment of his life, were it not so critically important to David that Patrick see him in his most open, vulnerable and exposed state. 

The moment the song had faded, so had Patrick’s laughter. The look on his face softened from bemusement and shock to nothing but tender consideration of the man currently sprawled on the floor in front of him, wearing a silk-lined leather sweater in the middle of summer.

David remained still, crouched in a deep squat, eyes cast downward, working to steady his breathing, the only sound audible in the silent store.

After what seemed like an eternity, David looked up Patrick through his long lashes, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, threatening to fall.

Rising from his chair in the middle of the store, Patrick extended a hand to David, pulling him to standing. 

David first felt it in the hand that gripped his hip, then the thumb that brushed the singular tear that had fallen down his cheek, and the hand that remained cupping his face. There was an unfamiliar intensity, an increased pressure, heat emanating from Patrick’s hold. 

Before David could lose himself to over-analysis of the moment, he lost himself in the depth of Patrick’s gaze, and all conscious thought dissipated as he and Patrick finally embraced. 

***

The second time David noticed it was the first night he and Patrick spent together, three days after their reunion. 

With Ray away for the weekend, David and Patrick were anticipating some much needed time alone. However, after an exhausting day at the store, run off their feet by a fleet of Golden Retriever Senior Citizens’ Excursions Buses stopping in town, Patrick had suggested a quiet night in consisting of pizza and an early bedtime, and the only amendment that David proposed was a pint of ice cream for dessert. 

Bellies full, tension washed away with hot showers, skin pink and warm, David and Patrick settled into bed, trading soft kisses and promises of more in the morning.

David woke up when the blankets shifted with Patrick’s movement. Briefly quirking one eye open, David watched Patrick pad towards the washroom. He felt the bed sag slightly when Patrick returned and slid under the covers, curling up behind him.

On the precipice of sleep, David felt Patrick’s hand slide up his back. But rather than slipping under David’s arm, and around his chest, like usual, Patrick’s hand continued to drift. Alternating between palm and a singular digit, Patrick traced the planes of David’s back, flank, and shoulder. Where before he would have done so delicately, this time it was as though Patrick was trying to commit each bone, tendon, curve, dip or mole to memory through touch, tracking slowly, pressing, the heat and the rhythm lulling David back to sleep.

***

By the third, fourth, and fifth times David noticed it, over the course of the next two weeks - Patrick’s hand pressed on his thigh in the car, holding hands across the table over dinner at the Cafe, and entangled in each others’ limbs after a leisurely and pleasurable morning together - things between the two of them had returned to, if not improved upon, their pre-BBQ state, and David was less inclined to question any of the affection Patrick levied on him in any manner. Instead, time after time, and without fail, he chose to lean into the press of Patrick’s touch, to revel in its heat, and to reciprocate its intensity. 

***

It wasn’t until Patrick slipped four golden rings on his left hand, pressing kisses to each knuckle as he did so, that David sensed a shift in Patrick’s touch yet again. Stripped emotionally bare by the proposal, David had to ask.

Patrick explained that in the early states of their relationship, he wanted to make sure that David knew he was wanted, worthy of love, and something to cherish. And it was all so new, lending itself to the tentative, exploratory, tender, and sometimes desperate nature of Patrick’s touch.

And then David had told him how he was damaged goods, which Patrick believed to be patently false, but nonetheless, committed to showing David through words and action, that he was, in fact, whole, in addition to being fully deserved and capable of being loved, and loving in return. Patrick imagined David as an exquisite piece of Kintsugi and his fingers smoothing the gold that would hold him together. 

Holding back a sob, David managed to croak out one last question. “...so what am I now?”

Patrick grinned, cupping David’s cheek - sure, confident, strong - as he pressed his lips to David’s. “Mine.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
